Realize
by MsButterFingers
Summary: With maturation comes change, and the Rocket gang has been through much. How much different are their lives six years after we last saw them? And how do they handle the change?
1. Oxygen

Hey guys! I'm glad I'm finally putting this one up here, I've been wanting to write it for a while. Here's chapter one!

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or settings from Rocket Power. Most importantly, I do NOT own any of the songs by Colbie Caillat that this entire story is based on! Again, all song titles belong to Colbie Caillat._

Sorry for any errors!

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**Chapter One**

"Hey," I called, drawing the word out lazily. I looked into my camcorder screen. "Looking good, Rocket Girl!"

The girl on the camcorder screen, Regina Rocket, glanced in my direction and raised a neat eyebrow at me. She smiled a luminous white smile. "Twist, quit kidding around. I thought you weren't bringing your camera this time."

I laughed outright, slowly shaking my head. "And you believed me? I would never leave my baby behind. Especially today, one of _the_ best surf days of the season."

My best friend and also Reggie's brother, Otto, snorted in reply. I turned my camera lens to him, kicking my feet in the warm seawater.

"Bull. That's just what that crappy weatherman said," He argued, folding his defined, deep tan arms. "If you ask me, it's the worst ever."

As he spoke, I turned my head around, following my gaze with the camera lens. I watched the quiet, still waters. I raised my eyebrows. Well, the new weatherman of Ocean Shores channel 15 hadn't been very popular with the locals. The surfers and boarders, especially. There were rumors that he had failed meteorologist school. It was to be expected that he would get the weekend forecast wrong again.

"Damn," I shook my head slowly, turning to face Otto again. "This is a sad, tragic sight."

"You're telling me, bro." The tone of his voice was sullen. Then, he turned an accusatory glance my way. "But, who was it that decided we should believe the weatherman today?"

I shrunk back defensively. "Hey, hey! I'm sorry, all right?" I couldn't help but be one of the few that still had faith in the poor weatherman. I paused for a second. "But, I think we should wait it out just a little longer." I looked up at the overcast sky hopefully.

Otto huffed. "Whatever, man. I hope for your sake that the weatherman's right this time."

"Actually," Our less than adventurous friend from Kansas, Sam Dullard, piped in. "It's usually not a matter of whether the weatherman is correct on predicting the forecast. Most of the time, it has to do with the pressure in the atmosphere changing, causing the weather patterns to-"

"Can it, Squid." Otto interrupted, throwing an open palm in front of Sam's face.

I laughed when Sam flinched at the closeness of Otto's hand. "Yeah, dude. You're making my head hurt."

"Everything makes your head hurt, Twist." Otto's raised his eyebrows at me.

"Shut up. I'm not stupid." I paused, considering my words. "I'm just average."

Sam chortled at either the fact that I was average, or at some inside joke. Either way, I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Holy crap!" Reggie's shout interrupted my almost-whomping on Sam.

We all turned our eyes to her, startled at her sudden outburst. She stared in one direction, eyes wide, and her jaw was dropped. We followed her gaze, and there it was.

Currently, rapidly appearing on the line of the horizon, was the mother of all giant waves. Seriously, this thing was magnificent. Enormous. Muy grande. In my whole seventeen year old life, I had never seen a wave so...intimidating.

God bless that weatherman.

For a few silent moments, we gaped in amazement.

"Good Lord," Sam nervously murmured, trembling slightly on his afloat surf board.

Otto leaned downward towards the surface of his surfboard until he was in a bowing position. "All hail the wave most radical."

"Holy mother of Hannah Montana." I murmured.

"Holy crap." Reggie repeated.

We were silent for a few more seconds.

"So...I'm definitely _not_ going for that one." Sam broke the silence with his murmur, his voice wavering. His shaking hand reached up to steady his black rectangle-rimmed glasses, his brown eyes wide. Otto snapped out of his daze and turned to Sam with a smirk on his face. He splashed him playfully, drenching his already wet, medium length, platinum blonde hair. Sam flinched as the water hit him.

"Come on," Otto taunted, wiggling his dark eyebrows above his reflective cop-like aviator sunglasses. When he did this, a small silver eyebrow ring bobbled up and down. "Is widdle Sammy-wammy afraid of a widdle wavy-wavy?" He flashed a brilliant, white, million-dollar smile when Sam glared at him with one open eye.

"You should know by now, Otto," Sam paused, grimacing. "Of course I am."

Otto tossed back his head and let out a hoot of a laugh, and his red-brown elbow-length dreadlocks flew with the movement.

"Otto," Reggie, moving her floating surfboard to rest next to mine scolded, and we all turned our attention to her. Her eyebrows cocked in a concerned matter. "You shouldn't do that just to get a laugh out of it." She shook her head, the ponytail on top of her head swaying back and forth. "It's mean. And it's seriously getting old."

"Aw, Reg. Lighten up!" Otto replied, flicking some salty sea water at her. She didn't even flinch, her intense eyes staring at him unwaveringly.

"Um," I started, glancing back at the still-approaching wave that everyone had seemed to forget about already. I looked over at Sam, and he we too busy watching Reggie and Otto to notice either.

"Aw, Otto," Reggie replied in the same tone he had used. She flicked water back. "Grow up."

"Yeah, why don't you, _Reg?_" He flicked more water.

"How about you, _Otto_?" She splashed him.

"No, you!" He splashed her.

"_You!_" She splashed even harder.

Just when I thought Sam and I couldn't get much wetter, I gasped.

"_Guys!_"

Mother wave had arrived.

Before I knew it, I was being pushed underwater with in incredible and powerful force. At first, I was disorientated and overwhelmed. Thankfully, I still felt the camcorder in my hand. When the water stopped swirling around me, I braced myself to open my eyes. I squinted against the sting of the salt water, glancing around me. My friends floated aimlessly around me. Except... Reggie? Wait. I saw Otto spinning around with his cheeks puffed out, trying to get the hair out of his eyes. Sam was doing somersaults involuntarily, waving his arms around like a madman. But...

_Oh my God._

Reggie...where was Reggie? I immediately started to panic. I spun around to look behind me, but she was nowhere to be seen.

I spun around, my eyes wide open and searching for her. My head spun.

Oh God. Oh God, oh God.

Not Reg. Dear _God_, not Reg.

The pressure on my lungs was getting to me, so I quickly swam up for air. As soon as I was above the surface, I took a few big, deep breaths, put my camera on my afloat surfboard, then quickly dove back in. So quickly, I didn't even notice that Otto and Sam were already on their surfboards again, or wonder how mine and gotten back on the surface.

Not her. Anyone but her. Please, not her.

When underwater again, I spun around once more.

I had to find her. I just had to.

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I felt a tug on my foot. I had to think twice not to scream, but I jerked considerably.

I looked down at my foot, and I saw a delicate, tanned and manicured hand around it. My heart lurched, then I realized who that hand belonged to. I glanced at the owner's face and found myself gazing into wide, panicked deep brown eyes much like mine, framed by long dark eyelashes.

An immense sense of relief swept over me. But, we weren't completely safe yet.

I noticed her surfboard was stuck between coral at the bottom of the reef, and she couldn't reach her ankle strap. I promptly reached down to grab her wrist and pulled hard, and the string connecting her to her surf board snapped in half. Her hands grabbed at me hastily, her grasp more limp than before.

Her hair-tie had been lost in the chaos of the powerful wave, and her long, violet hair floated behind her, shining luminously in the underwater sunlight. I resisted the urge to marvel at it any longer, my lungs burning, and began to kick my legs.

About halfway to the surface, I glanced down at her. Her eyes were now squinted and unfocused, and it looked like she was fading fast. I began to swim faster, my muscles aching, and it almost seemed to take too long until were above the surface again.

We leaned on my floating surfboard, retrieved by either Sam or Otto, and gasped for air as soon as we could, though Reggie did need it more than I did. She gulped in the air almost too eagerly, and she coughed heavily and violently a few times, some water spewing out of her mouth. My heart lurched again.

"Shit, man!" Otto exclaimed, his voice loud and booming. "What happened?"

"Are you guys okay?" Sam's face was pure worry, his heavy eyebrows furrowed.

We continued to gasp and wheeze for a few more moments, both of us obviously in no shape to reply.

"I..." I breathed in deep a few times more, my lungs screaming. "I-"

I was interrupted by a couple of more whooping coughs from Reggie, and on impulse, I glanced at her. Then, her gaze met mine, a pained smile twisting her lips. Her voice was faint and brittle, and it was the first time I had ever heard her sound so vulnerable.

"Twister saved my life."

We walked on shore, our surfboards in tow, except for Reggie. Unfortunately, after trying over and over, we couldn't get hers free.

"So, let me get this straight," Sam was somehow still trying to process everything that had happened. "Reggie almost drowned...and _Twister_ was the one to save her?!"

I shook my head, my long, red and sun-bleached hair tickling my jaw.

"Is it really that hard to believe, Squid?"

We came to a stop where our bags rested on the soft sand. They all glanced at me, eyebrows raised. I paused, watching their skeptical faces.

"_What?_" I demanded, my arms folding across my chest.

"Don't take it personally, Twist." Reggie's voice traveled from behind me, and I turned to see her dip her head upside down and pat her hair dry with her light blue towel. "You _have _done things in the past that...made us question your IQ." Her careful pause had obviously been to spare my feelings.

I scowled at the ground, seeing the meaning past her polite words. "Shut up, guys. It's not like I can't swim or anything. I'm not retarded."

"Well, it _was_ you that Reggie saved from drowning five or six years ago, wasn't it?" Sam changed the subject smoothly, probably hoping I wouldn't notice. He sat down on the sand to put his flip-flops on.

"Ha, yeah," Otto piped in, laughing once, not in humor, but probably in irony. "Come to think of it, she _did_ save you. Guess you're even now, huh?"

I looked down at my bare feet, wiggling my toes through the hot sand. I smiled wistfully, fingering the shark tooth necklace around my neck. "I guess so."

'No,' I thought. 'It was exactly six years ago.' I knew because that was the scariest day of my life.

It was also the day I came to a realization.

I fell in love with Reggie.

"Aw, Reg. Come _on!_ Do you have to do that here?"

Mention of her name snapped me out of my thoughts, and glanced at Otto. His expression was one of aggravation and embarrassment. He was looking in Reggie's direction, so I turned to see what he was talking about.

Reggie was in the process of un-zipping her body suit, her black bikini underneath. Her expression was innocent enough, and her response to Otto was defensive. "What?"

My breath hitched for a moment, then I forced my eyes back to her face.

Otto's scowl deepened behind his sunglasses, and he folded his arms. "You're stripping in plain sight, Reg! There are people watching!"

"I'm not _stripping_, Otto. I have a bathing suit on. And nobody's watching!" She paused to glance around her, probably to prove her point, but her expression became one of annoyance when she saw a large group of teenage boys ogling her. She sneered in their direction.

I looked at them just in time to see them smirk at her in return. I felt a glower on my face, but nobody in the group seemed to notice.

Reggie had her fair share of admirers no matter where she went, only, she rarely noticed them. I was glad for that, and even when she did notice them, she hardly ever encouraged it or flirted back. And by now, I was at the point of either wanting her even more because of that or hating her for being so unreachable.

But of course I didn't truly hate her. I could never hate her.

"Reggie, stop showing off."

"Shut it, Otto." Reggie growled, and yanked on a pair of short cutoff white shorts over her bikini bottoms. "Almost dying made me hungry, so let's just go." She grabbed her beach bag and began walking towards the Pier, knowing that we would follow.

Sam and I exchanged a glance at the word 'dying'. Then, we glanced at Otto, angry and completely standing his ground for a few moments. His jaw was locked and his expression was menacing as he glanced at the large group of guys again. They seemed to pick up the hostility radiating from behind his sunglasses, because they immediately dispersed and went to do whatever they were doing before.

Then, he trudged after Reggie, picking his surfboard up again. After getting our bags, Sam and I followed cautiously, as if waiting for his blistering anger to suddenly be turned on us.

–

"Drowning? What?!" Raymundo thundered, dropping Sam's milkshake to the ground. Even tourists walking by on the sidewalk outside stopped and stared at him for a moment.

"_Almost,_ dad. Almost drowned." Reggie corrected, picking up another fry in a casual manner. "Calm down."

Sam seemed to be the only one not watching the exchange, and instead, he watched his slaughtered chocolate milkshake melt against the linoleum floor. "My milkshake," he muttered.

Ray clutched at his signature blue hat, shaking his head. "Calm down? No, no, no, no, no. I can't calm down. I can't believe this. I should have been there!" He rushed from behind the counter and paced quickly towards her.

"I'm fine, Dad. I'm okay." Her voice was calm, even as Ray wrapped his arms around her much too tightly. "Still here, remember?"

"Right, right." Ray seemed to compose himself for a moment, though he didn't loosen his hold. The composure was gone within seconds. "Oh, I'm so glad my Princess is okay!"

"Dad," Reggie groaned, her eyebrows furrowing. "Come _on._"

Otto snickered, chewing with his mouth open. I jabbed my elbow into his ribs. I felt him throw a quick glare at me for interrupting his enjoyment at Reggie's expense. I just shrugged.

Ray let go of his daughter. "All right, sorry, sorry." He held his hands up defensively. "Anyway, I'm glad you're unharmed." He paused. "You're unharmed, right?"

Reggie nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. My lungs kind of hurt, though."

"It's normal to feel that after a near-drowning experience." Sam added before Ray could panic again. "Her lungs are just getting used to the exertion of breathing air again. By the way, can I have another milkshake?"

Ray glanced down at his hand, and realizing that he no longer held Sam's milkshake, his eyebrows raised. "Sorry, Sam. I'll get you another one."

As Ray walked behind the counter again, Tito came out of the kitchen.

"'Ey, little cuzzes." He greeted, his warm brown eyes bright. "How goes it?"

"Reggie almost died." Otto commented without missing a beat. We all turned our eyes to glare at him.

Tito stopped cold, the beam on his face gone. His eyes were wide. "Excuse me?"

"Otto!" Reggie scolded, swatting her brother's shoulder with her hand. She looked at Tito. "It wasn't that big of a deal. I just...almost drowned. But Twister saved me."

She leaned over the counter to meet my gaze, a grateful smile on her soft lips. My stomach flipped over. She broke our gaze too soon.

"Really?" I didn't like the shock in Tito's tone.

I scowled. "_Yes. _Why is everyone so surprised?" When Otto opened his mouth, I added, "Don't answer that."

"No, no, I'm not surprised. I'm just impressed." He held his fist out for me to bump. "Way to go, brudda."

I hit his fist with mine. "Thanks, Tito."

At that moment, Ray was came back over with Sam's milkshake. Sam took the paper cup eagerly, his smile wide. Things were quiet for a minute, with just the small talk of the few other customers and the humming of the TV. Then, the peace was interrupted.

"Reg!" A deep voice called from outside the Shack. We all turned toward the source. It was Trent, our friend from New Zealand. "I came as soon as I could, I'm sorry."

"Aw, babe, it's okay." Reggie got up from her bar stool to meet him, and as soon as she reached him, they embraced intimately.

The rest of us turned away, slightly uncomfortable, and Ray muttered something about 'getting a room'. Otto made gagging noises. I frowned to myself, and that familiar sting came back.

Reggie and Trent had been going out for a year now, because after years of liking each other, he finally asked her out. It was a relief for Reggie and she was so excited. I grimaced silently.

It wasn't like I hadn't tried to be happy for her. I really had. But after they had been going out for a month or two, I realized how wrong he was for her. I hated the way he treated her.

He was always telling her to improve this way, or wear this, or style her hair like that. It bothered me. Reggie was independent, and I could tell that it bothered her too. But she did what he said because she didn't want to lose him.

I had always liked Trent as one of the guys, but after he started dating Reggie, I just kept finding reasons to dislike him. Maybe it was just my jealousy. But maybe he really wasn't right for her.

I glanced back over, and even though I couldn't hear them clearly, it looked like he was asking if she was okay. She nodded, and then she turned to point at me. I turned back around, slightly chagrined from getting caught watching them.

As much as I hated them together, there was nothing I could do. And if Reggie truly wanted to be with him, then I wouldn't try to break them apart.

A few minutes later, they came over to our group. Trent sat on the stool Reggie sat on before, and she sat on his lap. Everyone groaned.

"Oh, shut up, guys. Grow up." Reggie narrowed her eyes at us, but she wasn't quite glaring. She seemed to be enjoying herself very much, actually.

Otto made another fake gagging noise. "But I'm trying to eat." He whined.

Reggie began eating the last of her fries, and Trent helped himself to her plate. "I don't complain when you're all love-y with Cleo."

At the mention of his girlfriends' name, Otto's face visibly reddened. Everyone snickered at him, even Ray and Tito from behind the counter. He muttered a string of words under his breath, and among them I understood, "Whatever."

At first, when Otto started dating my cousin Cleo when we were fourteen, I didn't really like it. For some reason, it just felt too weird to have my best bro dating my cousin. And it was especially awkward for me having him coming over to my house whenever she visited and seeing them all mushy.

But, after a year or so, I began to get used to it. They began getting more and more serious, and about a year and a half ago, Cleo moved to Ocean Shores permanently because her parents were tired of always going back and forth for her visits.

I had to give the Ottoman props. Before Cleo, he was somewhat of a player. He went through girls almost weekly. His relationship with Cleo had been, hands down, the longest relationship he had been in. I figured there must have been something about her that kept him, so I let them alone. I really was happy for them.

As for Sam, he didn't have a girlfriend, but he had had a crush on Trish, Reggie's best friend, for years. Everyone wondered when he would ask her out, but he could hardly have a conversation with her without having a panic attack. It was pretty obvious that hell would freeze over before he would ever ask her out.

"Oh, crap!" Otto erupted, ripping me out of my thoughts. Evidently, everyone else had been elsewhere too, because the majority of them jumped. Even the old couple at the table in the corner jumped in surprise.

"What, Otto?" Ray's tone was slightly annoyed, and he clutched plate he had nearly dropped.

Otto grasped the top of his head, pulling at the dreadlocks. "I forgot to do that paper!"

Reggie rolled her eyes and continued her conversation with Trent. Ray and Tito sighed and shook their heads. I was indifferent.

Sam seemed like he was the only one that was concerned. "That's due tomorrow!"

"I know! Dammit!" His voice cracked on the curse word.

"Watch it," Ray's tone was sharp, glancing quickly at the poor startled old people in the corner. He didn't appreciate it when Otto cursed, which was all the time, but he cursed all the time himself, so I didn't really see his defense.

"Sorry," Otto rushed the word out carelessly, as he always did. "I need to get home and do it!" He jumped up from his stool, yanking his skateboard out of his backpack.

"I'll go with you, dude." I said, standing up also. "I need to double check to see if mine is done." I pulled my skateboard from my bag.

Actually, I knew that mine was done. I just didn't feel like watching the daily Reggie and Trent show anymore. I didn't verbalize that, but somehow, I think Otto understood. He knew about my feelings towards Reggie, and even though he didn't completely like it, he at least accepted it.

As soon as Otto and I made it to his house, I pulled my camcorder from my bag and watched the footage from earlier. I rewound it over and over.

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Is Twister really going to let the whole Trent and Reggie thing happen? Or will he fight back?

And what is Reggie's point of view on all of this?

Until next update! ;D

**Please Review!** Thanks.

**-MsButterFingers**


	2. The Little Things

Hey all! Sorry for the wait! I forgot how hard it is to get going on a new story sometimes.

Thank you for the reviews for last chapter! I was honestly pretty surprised that I'd gotten so many, especially for a new story and all. I'm really glad you guys like it so far. Thanks again!

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or settings from Rocket Power, or Darth Vader. Hah._

Sorry for any errors!

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**Chapter Two**

I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel of my stalled car impatiently.

Then I took a quick glance at myself in the rear-view mirror.

And then I flipped my phone open to look at the time again. _7:50 A.M._

_Dammit, Otto._ I thought, grinding my teeth together tightly. _We're gonna be late to first hour _again.

It wasn't like I was some straight-A, kiss-ass, teacher's pet and was perfectly on time all the time. But 15 tardies equaled a detention, and even though school had just started 3 weeks ago, Otto and I were already at ten tardies. I thought this year I'd want to spend at least a _few_ Wednesday nights the way I wanted instead of spending an extra two hours at school. The school year before, I had practically _lived_ at the school on Wednesdays.

And the being late thing wasn't my fault. I was always in his driveway, in my car, at the right time every morning. I didn't know what he did in the mornings, but if he was fixing his hair or something, he seriously needed to get rid of those damn dreadlocks.

This wouldn't have been such a problem if he'd had his own car. Unfortunately, though, Otto had repeatedly failed his driver's license test, six times to date in fact. Either he had been too lazy to study for it, or he bailed the test for a skate competition. I, myself, had failed it only once. I wasn't good with any other tests, but driving was something I'd wanted to do my whole _life._I'd studied harder for the driver's test than anything else in my recent memory. Driving, besides boarding and surfing, is the only thing I can say I'm good at. I didn't get why Otto just didn't buckle down and get it done already, if he was so excited to drive.

And if he did, I wouldn't have to be late every freaking morning.

I glanced at myself in the mirror again, studying my reddish-sun bleached hair. I still wasn't sure about the whole flat-ironing thing, it felt weird. But I had noticed that Trent flat ironed his hair stick straight every day, and Reggie always raved about his hair. So I figured, why not? It was only the third time I'd done it, so I was still getting used to it. But I still kind of felt like a pretty boy.

My impatience flared up again, and I hit my horn with two, quick jabs.

"Relax," Otto's voice came from the other side of the car, and I turned my head to see him opening the passenger door. His expression behind his shiny aviators was easygoing, and I scowled at him. He threw his backpack over the armrests and into the backseat. "I see you have your girly hair again today."

I sniffed, my ego slightly wounded. "Shut it." I flicked my long hair out of my eyes, and the movement felt extremely un-masculine. My best friend snickered as he sat down and shut the door.

"What's the point, man?" Otto muttered as I started the engine. "Reggie hasn't said anything about it. I don't even think she's noticed."

I was silent for a few moments, my forehead feeling heavy. I backed the car out of the driveway, and then I finally replied. "She will."

Otto didn't say anything, but somehow that was a reply in itself. I knew she probably wouldn't notice. But I had to try anyway. I let a few more seconds of quiet pass, and then I spoke again.

"Dude, if you make me late one more time this week, I will beat the shit out of you."

His returning smirk was sheepish. "Sorry, sorry! I overslept again. I stayed up way too late."

I shook my head at the offhandedness of his response. "Finishing that paper?"

"See, that's the thing," Otto paused, scratching his head. "Cleo called me late last night, and I kinda got distracted…" His voice trailed off, leaving implications that I didn't want to think about.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the mental picture, and then remembering that I was driving, I opened them again. "You didn't finish it? For a hookup with Cleo?"

Otto sunk down in his seat further, his breath coming out in a long hiss. "I wasn't going to at first, and I was gonna get the paper done instead…but man, I just couldn't say no."

I groaned. "Please, Otto-man. Spare me those details."

He laughed his hooting laugh at my embarrassment. "Aw, come on, Twist. You know me and Cleo have been doing that for a while."

"Yeah, I know. But I don't want to hear it repeatedly and in gross detail. She's my _cousin_, man." I tried to force the mental picture out of my head again.

He sighed in exaggerated exasperation. "Fine, fine. But Mrs. Robertson is gonna eat me for breakfast."

I let my breath out in relief of the subject change. "Yeah, dude. This is, what, the fifth time you've turned in something late in her class since school started?"

"Uh-huh. She'll be so pissed, this is gonna suck. I wonder if she'll put me in the dungeon or feed me to her ten cats?"

"Possibly. Or she'll make you wear one of her puffy-paint cat sweatshirts."

Otto shuddered. "Oh, God! That would be ten times worse than the dungeon. I would reek of cat pee the whole day."

As we talked of more possible punishments that Mrs. Robertson might have waiting for Otto, we turned into the quiet school parking lot. The parking lot was usually bustling up until the bell rang, so we were definitely late. We trudged up the school steps and into the building silently, and as we walked through the hallway, we were suddenly stopped by a voice behind us.

"Halt, in the name of the Almighty hall monitor!"

Otto and I sighed in unison, because we knew that voice anywhere. We turned to face them. "It's us, Eddie." I muttered.

Yes, the Prince of the Netherworld himself. We weren't as good of friends as we had been, but every once in a while we would talk. He'd somehow gotten even weirder than he had been as a kid. He still wore the hooded cape, but sometimes the mask would vary. Today he had a Darth Vader mask.

"Oh!" Eddie pushed his mask up from his face and put his 'badge' away. He straightened wire rim glasses on his nose. "Sorry, guys. I didn't recognize you; you know how bad my vision is these days."

I recalled a few weeks ago when Eddie told us that his eye doctor said that his vision problems were coming from the masks he had worn practically his whole life. He also said he might have to get laser eye surgery if he kept wearing the masks, but he hadn't quit wearing them yet. Go figure.

I nodded and Otto held up a hand. "No problem, man, don't worry about it." He said.

Eddie nodded eagerly, as if he was immensely relieved that he hadn't made us mad. "So, you're late again? Having car problems, or what?"

I shook my head, then jabbed my best friend in the ribs. "Naw, it's because of this dumb bastard right here."

Otto smiled widely and shoved me back. "Yup. I'm the dumb bastard."

Eddie chuckled and slid his mask back down over his face. "Well, you guys'd better go before you get caught out here. This time is about the time when Mr. Kenny goes to get coffee from the teachers' lounge."

We nodded and left toward our lockers, which were conveniently only one locker away from each other. I guess if you needed any pros of having a best friend with a last name starting with the same letter as yours, that one would be it. As I got my books out, I tried to ignore the familiar, intoxicating perfume drifting from within the locker right next to mine.

But as I sat through my first period class, that scent was all I could think about.

I had fourth period Biology with a girl named Hannah, and I think she was basically the main reason I wasn't failing that class.

She was small and had short, choppy blonde hair. She was really smart, and supposedly she was supposed to be a Freshman, but she got moved up to Junior classes. She sat next to me, and we were also lab partners. In obvious thanks to her, we got A's on every lab assignment. I still remembered the looks of envy I got when Mr. Palmer assigned lab partners on the first day of school. Even though school had just started, I was pretty sure she already had a little crush on me. It was flattering, and she wasn't bad looking, but my sights were on someone else.

Right now, Mr. Palmer was going on about something having to do with environments and something called a niche. I wasn't really listening anyway; the wall I was staring at was much more interesting. Hannah would fill me in on the important stuff later.

After all, I hadn't seen Reggie at all that day, and I was going insane.

I usually always saw her at least once between classes, considering our lockers were right next to each other. But I hadn't seen her yet. I was beginning to worry, quite unreasonably, I might add. My sleep-deprived subconscious kept throwing me the disturbing images from the near-drowning of the day before, ones of Reggie losing consciousness and her pale lips clenching tight to hold onto the remaining air she had. They were the same images that kept me up for most of the night before. They would probably keep me up at night for another week or so. The thought in itself that I had almost lost Reggie for good had me shuddering.

And now she wasn't here. Had something happened? Was she not as fine as she had insisted yesterday? Had she developed some sort of post-almost-drowning disease?

I ground my teeth together. My worries were turning ridiculous again. I needed to relax, think about something else for a change. Someone else.

I sat there for another five minutes, and I could not for the life of me think of anyone else.

This always happened when I tried to forget about her. At times when I start to think rationally, when I start to think that the power she has on me is too strong, and I try to force myself to let go of her, I can't. It was just impossible. And I hated that it was impossible.

I let myself think of her again, and under the desk, I checked the front screen of my phone for the fourth time. No new messages. Not that I was expecting her to text message me or anything. But it didn't hurt to check.

I felt Hannah's elbow prod me in the ribs, and when I looked up at her, she had a concerned expression on her face as if to ask, 'Are you okay?' I just sighed, and she silently faced the front of the class again.

Soon, the bell rang, and I was probably the third person out the door. I wanted to catch Otto before his next class so I could ask him if he knew where she was, though lately he usually didn't. With Reggie's relationship and the seriousness of Otto and Cleo's relationship growing, they were almost never home at the same time.

But as I neared my locker, a head of long, glossy violet locks met my gaze, and I stopped in my tracks. My heart jumped in my ribcage.

She was here. She was okay.

I made a quick attempt to calm myself, including trying to get my pulse in a normal state, and then continued to walk toward my locker coolly. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, even though it was. Just being near her was enough to send my senses into a frenzy.

She was talking to two other girls, and I took advantage of her back being to me, quickly twisting the knob on locker door through its combination. Unfortunately, it couldn't be done quietly, and the noise alerted her of my presence. She looked over her shoulder at me, and I pretended not to notice.

"Oh, Twister! I was just telling them about you." She flashed a gleaming smile when I looked up, and I could feel the blood start to rush to my face. Her entire face was warm when she smiled, and her chocolate brown eyes melted into mine when she made eye contact. Her smile was only one of my favorite things about her.

"Were you, now?" I asked after clearing my throat.

She chuckled musically. "Of course." She grabbed my arm and patted it with her other hand as she turned to the other girls again. Her perfume, which I guessed was freshly sprayed, filled my nose. The soft, feminine scent reminded me of vanilla and honey. "This is my hero, in the flesh."

The girls, one short blonde one and the other with light brown hair, appraised me with slightly skeptical expressions.

"No, really!" Reggie laughed again as she said this, and she curled the hand resting against my bicep into a fist. Electric shocks shot through my arm when her manicured nails brushed against my skin. "Tell them, Twist."

I glanced down at her, and for a short second, I marveled at how the top of her head only came up to my shoulder. "Um, yeah." I said awkwardly, looking at the girls again. "It was me."

The girl with the light brown hair spoke first. "Well, I'm glad. When I heard Reggie was close to drowning yesterday, I was so worried!" She grinned at me.

"Me too," the short blonde one agreed.

The girls exchanged a few more words, Reggie holding onto my arm the entire time, and then the two left. As soon as they turned around, I looked down at her again.

"So…how are you feeling?" I tried to make my voice sound casual.

She looked up at me and smiled again. "I'm fine, Twist. You can stop worrying."

My eyebrows rose. Had Otto told her how worried I was? I shook my head. "I never said I was worried."

She gave me a wary look. "I know. I can just tell that you are."

My stomach jumped a little, and I glanced away from her face. She knew me too well sometimes. I changed the subject. "So, did Ray let you sleep in this morning or something?"

She nodded, and before she could open her mouth, she was interrupted.

"Reg," Trent's deep voice came from about two feet behind us. We turned to face him, and he eyed Reggie's hands on my arm.

"Hey, baby!" She exclaimed, and her face lit up even lighter than before. To my dismay, she immediately left my side and walked to him with open arms. I inhaled as her scent left me.

They embraced tightly, but as Reggie gazed at his face, he stared daggers at me.

That was another thing I disliked about Trent. When in front of the whole group, he acted like he didn't have a problem with anybody. But when it was just him and I, he made it clear that he disliked me just as much as I disliked him. I was positive that he knew about my feelings for Reggie. Obviously, he had a problem with that.

And Trent was very jealous. Not just of Reggie hanging out with me, but other guys too.

He would glare at her if she was with him and she stopped to talk to another guy. He hated other guys touching Reggie. If Reggie texted or called any other guys on the phone, he would immediately accuse her of cheating. His possessive behavior hadn't really caught anyone else's attention but mine. I knew Otto would have noticed if he was around them more. But the PDA grossed him out, so he avoided them together whenever he could. I'd tried to tell him about it, but he just wrote me off and told me I was being jealous.

It bothered Reggie, I could tell. But she never told anyone. She loved Trent too much.

I broke from Trent's gaze and turned to my locker again, throwing my Biology book in and taking out my Geometry one. I briefly heard Trent whisper something to Reg, and she tsked.

"Stop it, babe. It's Twister."

Bitterness rose in my throat. Oh, it's just Twister. Don't worry about him. He means nothing to me. She might as well have said those things, because that was what I heard in her tone. I slammed my locker shut and walked away before their attention could be averted.

I didn't understand how one person could make me insane with worry, fill me with need and crush me with disappointment all in one hour. Sometimes I wondered if she knew how much damn power she had over me. It was like she held every one of my emotions on strings and she pulled them whenever she felt like it. Other times it was like I didn't even exist.

So why did I even bother trying?

During my next class, I tried to get her out of my head, to no avail. Her voice echoed in my mind.

'_Oh, Twister! I was just telling them about you.'_

'_I'm fine, Twist. You can stop worrying.'_

'_I know. I can just tell you are.'_

'_Stop it, babe. _It's Twister_.'_

Just when I thought I couldn't wallow any deeper in self-pity, my phone vibrated in my pants pocket. Keeping my eyes on the teacher, I carefully pulled the phone out of my pocket and opened it under the desk. I lowered my eyes to the screen. In just a few moments, all bitterness disappeared.

'**From: Reggie Rocket**

**Received: Mon, Sep 17 11:23 am**

**Btw, did I tell u I like ur new hair? U should keep it tht way :)**'

Despite being 'just Twister', something told me that I shouldn't give up on her just yet.

* * *

All right, that's all for chapter two! Sorry for the length, weak, I know. D: Next chapter will probably be longer!

Poor Twister. Will he get his lady? Or will he have to get over her? Are these questions pointless because I already know what's going to happen?

**Please Review!** Thank you!

**-MsButterFingers**


	3. One Fine Wire

Hey guys! I'm so, so, so, so sorry for the huge wait for this chapter. It hadn't taken me so long to update a story like that in a while. School and life got in the way for a while, my apologies! Buuut, it's finally here! :D

This chapter I introduce a few more old familiar characters. I hope you enjoy!

_Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or settings from Rocket Power! Or the city of Sacramento!_

_Warning: Some bad language used by a particularly rebellious character. It's not too awful, but if stuff like that bothers you, be warned!_

Sorry in advance for any grammar errors or typos!

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**-Otto's POV-**

I watched with a smirk as Squid tried to engage Twister in conversation.

Sam was doing the majority of talking, besides the occasional 'yeah' and 'uh-huh' from Twister. Every time Sam would look away from his tray of food, thinking he'd find Twister paying attention to his ramblings, he would scowl in disappointment. Twister was staring, unabashed and head leaned on one hand, at Reggie, whom was standing in the long lunch line with Trent. For shame.

I ripped my pizza crust in half and crammed it in my mouth. "Twist," I mumbled between chews. "You're drooling."

He straightened up quickly, swiping his hands frantically at his chin. "Damn it!" He grabbed at Sam's napkins next to him to clean up.

Sam scowled again. "I was going to use those."

Twister ignored him and looked at me. "Did I get it all?" His eyebrows rose past the hair falling in his eyes. The stick-straight, flat-ironed hair. Still had to get used to that.

I nodded at him, choking back a laugh. "Yeah. Chill, pretty boy."

He ground his teeth. "Shut up. I just don't wanna be all drool-y." He paused, as if something more important occurred to him. The annoyance in his tone was gone. "Is Reggie coming?"

I sighed. "I don't know."

"Well, look!"

"You have eyes," Now, how old were we? Last time I checked, we weren't in the fifth grade. "You look."

Twister started to flush, his freckled cheeks brightening. "I can't look! That would be too obvious. What if she saw me?"

I huffed a loud, annoyed sigh. He was such a woman. "God." I twisted around in my chair to see Reggie and Trent looking for our table, trays in hand. "Yes, she's coming."

I watched with half shame and half wonderment as Twister straightened himself again, adjusting his shirt and running his fingers through his hair. I shook my head.

Twister had had a thing for my sister for quite a few years now, and right now, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Yes, at first it bothered me that he was panting after my sister, but he's my best bro. I wanted to see him happy, even if it did mean going after Reggie. Besides, I was dating his cousin, so this kind of made us even. Heaven knows that I wouldn't know what to do without Cleo, and if what Twister felt for Reggie was a quarter of how I felt for Cleo, I wouldn't stand in his way.

And now that Reggie was dating Trent, I felt even worse for Twister. Reggie's obliviousness was hard enough, and now in addition to that, she was in a relationship. I could see the pained look on his face whenever she talked about him, or whenever they decided to kiss and hug in front of us.

At that moment, Reggie pulled up a chair next to Sam, and Trent next to her.

"Hey," Trent said to us. Despite living in Ocean Shores for a good long time now, most of his New Zealand accent was still there. And I still found it pretty badass.

"Hey guys," Reggie greeted cheerfully, setting her lightweight tray down. I looked at it and noticed how there was only a salad and an apple there. My lips twitched. Girls and their lightweight meals, I would never understand them.

We all nodded back at them in greeting and went back to our food, though looking back up at Twister; I noticed that his eyes lingered on her just a bit longer.

Funny how even though Twister hardly bothered hiding his attraction to Reggie, she didn't seem to notice. At all. _Everyone_ else noticed, in fact, except for her. Sometimes I wondered how she could possibly be so oblivious. Reggie wasn't stupid. Didn't she get it?

But whenever she looked at Trent, it was like he was the only guy in the entire universe. It was no wonder she'd never noticed.

But Trent had noticed. Hoo boy, did he notice.

"So like I was saying, Twister," Sam started, trying again to engage Twister in _something_. "If you need any help in Biology this year, just tell me. I know how you have that habit of cheating and copying other people's work, and Biology isn't that simple."

"Uh huh," Twist said, staring at Reggie. Again.

"And if you continue to get behind this early on in the course, it'll be even harder for you later on. I mean, you should at least read over the material for each unit. That's the least you can do."

"Yeah," Twist said in the same absent tone. Trent, who apparently has guys-staring-at-his-girlfriend-senses, turned away from Reggie, who was prattling on about her drama class, and sent Twist a cold look.

Sam, somehow _still_ not noticing how much Twister wasn't paying attention, kept going. "I mean really, Twister. It's not that hard a class. I know you're not very good at Science, or Math, or other things of that nature, but it's really not that difficult if you try. I think you have it in you."

"Sam," I said. Twister and Trent were still staring daggers at one another.

"And so I think that maybe I should help you a few days after school every week. I think I could give you the push you need."

"Sam," I repeated.

"I know that it's easier to cheat off of that smart freshmen-transfer in your class, but wouldn't it be better just to have the satisfaction of passing a class through your own hard work and perseverance?"

"SQUID," I said, pointing to the preoccupied Twister. "He's not listening."

Sam stared blankly at the back of Twister's head for a few seconds, and then he picked up his fork again and stabbed it repeatedly into his styrofoam plate, muttering to himself.

"So Reggie," I started to avoid the impending awkward silence, "You feeling better?"

The subject change seemed to distract Twister and Trent, and they both turned their attention back to Reggie. She looked at me and nodded. "Yeah, I do. My lungs don't hurt anymore, but my throat still kind of hurts."

I risked a quick glance at Twister, and I was just quick enough to see his eyebrows furrow in a worried way. I quickly changed my glance to my sister. "I heard you got to sleep in this morning," I said, frowning in jealousy at the thought. "Maybe I should almost drown too."

Reggie snorted, jabbing her fork into her Caesar salad. "Be my guest."

"Hell no," Twister said, glaring at me. "Besides, I would still have to be the one to drive you around. And then I'd be late, too."

"Well, yeah." I replied. "But then you could sleep in, too!"

He gave me a dry look. "And what would _my_ excuse be? My best friend's stupidity?"

"They'd probably actually believe that," Sam piped in, earning a glare from me.

Twister shrugged and then paused, turning that over in his head. "On second thought—"

"No," Reg said, staring darts at me and using her stern, don't-even-think-about-it voice. "Nobody's going to try to drown on purpose, _Otto_. And no skipping school on purpose." I scowled in defeat.

"Don't nag, darling. It doesn't suit you." Trent said to Reggie, stroking her hand on top of the table despite a slight edge to his voice. Twister leaned around Sam again and stared death at Reggie's boyfriend, but thankfully Trent didn't notice it this time.

"Sorry, babe." Reggie said with a tight smile, the smile she has when something's bothering her, but she doesn't want to tell you. It surprised me to see it, because I hadn't seen it in a long time.

Before I could say anything to her, the bell rang. I looked down at my empty food tray in relief and stood with everyone else.

"_Yes._ Only three more hours left of this hellhole," I announced as I dumped my trash into the trashcan at the end of the table.

"Amen to that," Twister said next to me, dumping his trash too. He gave me the dry sidelong look I'd begun to get used to, the one that said, 'oh my god, I want to strangle that guy and watch the life leave his eyes'. Sam came over and dumped his empty soda can and assaulted styrofoam plate, seemingly unaware of everything.

Reggie and Trent came over and dumped their trash too. They were in their own conversation, and as they turned away, Trent rested his hand on her butt. I gagged.

"See you guys later," she called behind her shoulder as they left. And after she left, I couldn't help but look into the trash and see Reg's salad mostly uneaten and her apple completely untouched.

* * *

**-Twister's POV-**

After school, I went straight home.

Today had been a particularly Reggie-and-Trent filled day, and it had me drained in every sense of the word. I was looking forward to just crashing on the couch and not getting up until dinner time. I could just lay there and recover from all this unrequited love shit. And all of it would start when I stepped through my front door.

Except not, because there was a big, loud, obnoxious something to keep me from doing all that.

"HEY, would you look at that?" was the first thing I heard, loud and shouting and echoing off of the walls. "The little dork is home from school!"

My mom, dad, and my _brother_ were all standing in the living room. All loud and laughing and Rodriguez-family-y.

"Oh, Maurice!" My mom squealed in delight. "Welcome home, _mijo_. Guess who came home from college to visit his parents and his favorite little brother?"

Lars was leaning on the arm of the couch with his arms folded. He nodded at me, that same ear-to-ear, crack-head smile on his face. "What's cracking, _Maurice?_"

I looked at him flatly, then turned to my dad and pointed to him. "What's that doing here?"

My mom's face contorted into a disapproving frown, and my dad glared. Lars burst out laughing, and took long strides toward me. "Aw, come on, lil' bro. Don't be like that. You know you missed my whompings." He came closer to give me a 'playful' punch in the abs, and as if on cue, seemed to notice my new hair. He suddenly held his hands up. "Whoa."

I'd known he'd notice it eventually. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up now."

He shook his head, his mouth halfway between a smirk and a gape. "Dude. Holy shit. Are you using one of those hair straighteners?" He kept shaking his head. "What the hell? I don't even...what the fuck is that, man?"

I heard Mom clear her throat, but Lars ignored it.

I ground my teeth, feeling a migraine coming on. I wish I'd had time to prepare for this. "Okay, okay. Say all you want, but I like it."

Lars held his hands up again. "Oh, I don't have any more to say. Trust me. The hair speaks for itself."

Mom and Dad looked like they were leaving. "We'll let you two catch up," Dad said, and even though I gestured wildly at him to stay, he disregarded it. I scowled.

"So, besides your disgustingly unmanly hair, what's been happening in ol' Ocean Shores, huh? Any new hotties here?" Lars continued, not seeming to care that Mom and Dad were still in hearing distance.

I sighed, folding my arms and looking at him wearily. "I don't know, Lars. Why don't you go look?"

He seemed to think about this, and then he shrugged. "Yeah, I'd probably be better off. You got bad taste in women, anyway." He pretended to pause and think. "Who was that that you've stalked since you were a tyke? Hmm?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't stalk her, Lars."

Lars raised his eyebrows, like he thought there was little difference between a crush and stalking. "You might as well. She wouldn't date you either way." He puffed his breath out into his cheeks and blew it out loudly. "Regina Rocket. She's pretty hot, I'll give you that, but she's like a freaking nun. Too goody-good. I bet she washes the dishes and flosses her teeth like, twice a day."

Actually, she did. But Lars was just bitter because he'd tried multiple times to get her to sleep with him, and she declined easily every time. One time she told me that she thought cuddling with Lars might feel like and smell like cuddling a full trash bag. "You do know she's dating Trent now, right?" I told him, though I don't know why I did. Maybe just to scorn him.

"What? Trent? That dude from New Zealand?" His eyes bugged out, and then for a few moments he looked pretty impressed. "Damn. Maybe she's not so goody-good after all. Shoulda banged that when I had the chance."

"So, how's Sacramento?" I asked to change the subject, because any further in that direction and I would've gone straight to the kitchen and pulled a steak knife on him.

Lars seemed unfazed by the subject change. "Aw, you know. It's pretty cool. It's big. And college is tight." He caught himself and waved a hand. "Not the school part, the parties. And the chicks. You haven't seen nothing 'till you've seen college chicks, little brother."

"I'm sure, Lars." I said, wondering if this was the only thing he was capable of talking about.

He nodded. "I mean, for real. _Hot as hell_. And at the parties, all the booze and grass you can handle." He leaned forward. "Have you ever been drunk at an amusement park?"

I stared at him flatly, wondering if he was high. "No, Lars, I can't say that I have." I grasped at the chance to change the subject again. "So, what about your classes? They hard?"

Now he looked bored. "Oh yeah, that. They're really hard."

I never quite understood how Lars made it into a university. With all his skipping, slacking off, and fooling around in middle school and high school(and, let's not fool ourselves here, _elementary school)_, it was a mystery to me. Even though it wasn't an Ivy League school or anything, the fact that he'd gotten into a university at all was nothing short of a miracle. But, if I ever got into a university, it would be pretty huge too.

I smirked. "I bet."

"Hey, wanna see my new tattoo?" He said, being the one to change the subject this time. Plus, I had a feeling it was because of his uncharacteristically good-natured mood that he decided to keep it light. He turned his back to me and lifted his black sleeveless shirt up to reveal a crisp new black dragon tattoo that curled and weaved all the way down his back.

"Damn," I said in spite of myself.

He grinned over his shoulder at me. "I know, right? Isn't she a beauty?" He put his shirt back down and turned around again. "Took three visits, five hours each. Didn't hurt as much as this one," he said, rubbing the black design that spread from the left side of his neck to behind his ear. He had about ten tattoos, and counting the new one, eleven. He also had an industrial piercing in each ear and one in his septum. When we were kids, he just looked like a kid that needed a haircut really badly, but now his natural aggressiveness paired with the piercings and tattoos made it look like he'd killed a few people before. But I knew that despite his looks, he couldn't really be capable of something like that. He was too stupid.

And besides, I had beaten him in the height department, so he hardly looked even a little intimidating to me. I wasn't sure how, but I'd somehow out grown him over the past two years or so, and I stood at least half a foot taller.

"Hey, Twister." Lars said suddenly, his tone different. And it was a weird different. It was a tone I'd never heard him use before. Out of nowhere, he'd started to act…unsettled? I wasn't sure. I'd never seen that expression associated with Lars before, I wouldn't even recognize it on him. It would imply that he was actually capable of having normal human emotions.

I looked at him slowly, hesitant to ask. "Yeah?"

"Have you…" he trailed off, looking like he was trying to figure out how to word what he was going to ask. It shocked me.

"Out with it already, Lars. You're weirding me out." I told him. I leaned closer and scrutinized his face. He leaned away and turned his face. "Is something…wrong?"

He looked as uncomfortable as I was with having actual, real conversation. At least for him, it was one that didn't only revolve around girls or booze. He held his hands out. "Okay, okay. Just…hear me out for a second…okay?"

I wasn't sure I'd like what I was going to hear. "…all right." I said with hesitation.

"Have you…noticed anything weird about Mom and Dad lately?" he finally asked.

My forehead crumpled. "Weird?" I didn't get what he was asking. "Weird like how?"

He seemed frustrated that I didn't immediately get what he was saying. "_You know_. Like, weird. Not acting like they used to."

I stared at him for a few moments. I had no idea what he could possibly mean. I saw them every day, and they seemed perfectly fine. "You know, your limited vocabulary isn't helping me out a lot right now, so if you could just…?"

His face fell flat, and I knew I had pushed to the very end of his patience. "You know what? Forget it, dumbass. You're too stupid to figure it out." He unfolded his arms and started to walk toward the front door. "Screw this. I'm going to Madtown. Tell Mom I'll be home for dinner." He picked up his skate board by the front door, and with that, he left and shut the door behind him.

After finally having some time to myself to think, we all sat down to dinner. My mom had made Lars' favorite dinner, homemade _caldo de res_ and _tres leches_ cake for dessert, and we mostly talked about school and stuff, Lars leaving out his party stories and tales about college girls for Mom's sake. And remembering Lars's serious question, I watched my parents. Closely.

And for the first time, I realized with a sick, guilty feeling in my stomach that they didn't talk to each other during dinner.

Not once.

* * *

New developments! Shock! Where will all this lead? Will Sam decide to start an alpaca farm? Will Lars join Broadway? Will David Hasselhoff make a guest appearance next chapter?

Not likely! :D

But what _will_ happen...? Hang in there, folks!

**Please review!** Reviews are my bread and water, and any are appreciated!

**-MsButterFingers**


	4. Bubbly

Guys. Omg. GUYS. It's been so long since I last updated, I'm so sorry! DDDD: But I have a feeling I'll have less distractions for a while, so I'm determined to finish this story! Here we go!

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Rocket Power, or the settings._

Sorry for errors!

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**-Twister's POV-**

A few days passed, and things had mostly gone back to normal.

By now, everyone had moved on from the almost-drowning incident, and people had stopped asking Reggie how she had survived, and who had saved her (always resulting in the looks of disbelief in my direction). Which meant Reggie and Trent had more time to be their clingy, mushy, couple-y selves all around the school. And the Shack. And the Rocket house.

Lars had gone back to college after the weekend finished, which was a relief for me, because it meant having a free couch and TV to come home to after a day of having to deal with the happy couple. After the first day of Lars being there, he and I had fallen back into our regular pattern of alternately insulting each other and ignoring each other as often as we could. It was our way. I actually preferred that more than being civil, being civil with him almost felt like he wasn't even my brother.

The only thing that hadn't gone back to normal, though, was my parents. After Lars had pointed out their behavior to me, and after he had left, the cold atmosphere in our house became glaringly obvious to me. Every night at dinner, they either both, or separately, talked to me, or they didn't talk at all, and at all other times of the day they were never seen together at all. If Dad was in the living room, Mom was upstairs. If Mom was in the kitchen, Dad was in the garage. The only other time they were together, it was in their room, and once when I walked past their open door, they were turned away from each other, on the very opposite sides of the bed.

I tried to tell myself not to worry about it—they were adults after all, and if they were going through something, they could deal with it on their own—but I couldn't help but start to feel uncomfortable about it. But I didn't say anything about it to anyone.

Friday, after school, I had come straight home to my refuge, i.e. the TV, but when I discovered there was nothing on that I wanted to watch, I turned to the Internet instead. It kept me entertained enough for a little over two hours, and then the quietness of my house was starting to get to me, I decided to go somewhere else for a while.

Grabbing one of my beanies and yanking it over my once again slightly wavy hair—I'd given up on straightening it for now. Reggie had noticed, but I had felt pathetic for doing it for her in the first place, and now my bathroom permanently smelt like burnt hair.—I breezed down the stairs, grabbed my skateboard by the door, and left the house.

I boarded down the sidewalk, leaving Ozone Street, and down the giant hill leading to main Ocean Shores. I liked boarding like this sometimes, just on my own, without Otto's regular hamming of my camera, Squid's whining, and Reggie and Trent's chronic clinginess. Just me, my thoughts, and the salty smell of the ocean in the breeze. It was nice. I would've liked to take a short trip to the beach too, maybe would have surfed off some of my burdens, but going in the ocean at that moment in time would've just reminded me more of Reggie.

That's how it always was, wasn't it? Eat a certain kind of donut for breakfast, remember that Reg liked bagels better than donuts. Hear a song on the radio, remember that Reg either loved or hated that song. See the color purple, remember the bright shade of violet that Reg's hair was. I sighed aloud. I really needed psychological help.

_Maybe I could hire Squid to be my therapist,_ I thought dryly. _He seems like he'd be good at that type of thing. Science and all that._

I took a sharp turn, heading toward the Shore Shack, and then stopped in my tracks. Some guy who'd been jogging behind me nearly ran straight into me, and he ran past me with a disgruntled noise and an impolite gesture over his shoulder at me. I ignored him.

I'd been planning on going to the Shore Shack to get something to eat, but I realized with this mood of mine, it would be plain on my face, and Tito would ask me what was wrong and I would have to talk about my problems. I appreciated this personality trait of Tito's, I really did, I just wasn't in the mood to pour my guts out.

After considering dropping by Madtown instead, I decided that hanging out at Otto's house might be better. I trekked all the way back up the hill leading to our street, and after making it back to Ozone Street, sweaty and having trouble remembering why I had bothered coming all the way back in the first place, I opened the front door to the Rocket house and received the shock of my life.

Reggie, on top of Trent. On the couch. With his hands up the front of her shirt and her bra next to his discarded shirt, next to them on the couch. Making out. As if their lives depended on it. So busy that they didn't even hear the door open. When my skateboard dropped with a sharp clatter, however, they jumped apart, turning around to see who the intruder was.

"Oh my God, Twist," Reggie said, sighing as relief poured over her face. She pressed a hand to her chest. "It's just you. You scared us."

Trent, who had looked considerable rattled just seconds ago, now looked at me with a cold sort of smugness. "Yeah, _Twist_. You scared us." He leaned back on the couch cushions again, leisurely. "Close that door, will you?"

Gaining back some of my composure, I reached behind me and threw the front door shut. "You're lucky it's just me," I told them, my voice gruff. "If it were Ray, he'd throttle both of you. Especially you, Trent. He'd probably make you into a nice winter coat." I tried very hard not to smirk as I said that last part, but I'm pretty sure I did.

Reggie laughed, thinking I was joking. "Yeah, probably." She turned to Trent and rubbed his knee. "We should probably go up to my room, babe."

"Yeah, okay." Trent got up, stretching, and I had to turn my face away from his half-nakedness before I projectile vomited all over the carpet. "But first, babe, can you make me a sandwich?" He patted his stomach and grinned, but it reminded me of a rattlesnake's face. "Your man's hungry."

"Sure," Reggie said cheerfully, and immediately jumped up from the couch, and I was horrified by how unlike _her_ she was around him. The Reggie I knew once would never be ordered to do something. 'You've got two legs that work,' she would've said. 'Make it yourself.' I wanted to say that to him now myself, but that would just make her upset at me. That was probably the last thing that I wanted.

"Oh, and, Reg," Trent stopped her before she walked away to the kitchen with one hand, glanced at me snidely, and then picked up her bra from the couch and handed it to her. "Put this back on for now."

Reggie giggled, and my face had turned so red from embarrassment and anger that all I could do was spin around and stomp upstairs to Otto's room.

I reached his door, turned the doorknob and pushed my way into his room, already starting my tirade. "Dude, Otto, I feel obligated to tell you that Trent's down there practically boning your—JESUS, COME _ON!_"

Otto and Cleo, who had been almost in the exact same position that I'd found Reggie and Trent in, jumped apart, Cleo screaming and covering herself with a blanket even though she had on all of her clothes and Otto swiping some of Cleo's red lipstick from his own lips and laughing.

"Freaking God, what is the matter with everyone in this house? I'm sorry, is it a house rule to make out with people all the time here? Because if I had gotten the memo I would've brought over some chick from school!" My face was even redder than before, and I threw my hands up when Otto continued to laugh even harder. "Yeah, laugh. Laugh at me, Otto. It's funny, it's _so funny_."

"Sorry, bro. I didn't know you were coming over." Otto started another round of laughs, pointing at me. "You should see your face right now, though. It's hilarious."

Cleo clucked her tongue. "Otto, stop laughing at my poor baby cousin. Look at him, we've scarred him." She held her arms open for a hug. "Come, Maurice."

Of course, her use of my real name just made Otto laugh even harder—he was shrieking in laughter now, falling over onto his side and holding his stomach. I grit my teeth together, groaning. "Cleo, _please_," I said.

"Oh," she said, miming a smack to her forehead. "Sorry. _Twister_. I still forget sometimes." She finally dropped the blanket she'd been holding over herself and scooted over on the bed, patting the space next to her. "Come on, hang out with us."

I snorted and glanced over at Otto, who had abruptly stopped laughing to shoot a death glare at me. "No thanks," I said, starting to slowly back out of the room. "I'd rather go eat my weight in chili fries. In fact, I think I'll go do that."

Cleo pouted at me, and from behind her, Otto nodded and gave me a thumbs up. I quickly left the room, shutting the door behind me and passing Reggie and Trent on the way down the stairs. Yes, I decided in my mind. 139 pounds of chili fries was _exactly _what I needed at the moment.

* * *

**-Otto's POV-**

"I wonder when he'll stop being so freaked out by us together," Cleo said to me after Twister slammed the door shut behind him, half-jokingly. She turned her face half toward me; straight nose, full lips, sharp cheekbones. "At least enough to stop running away whenever we're in the same room as him."

I shrugged and leaned back against the pillows behind me. "Eventually, probably." I chuckled and nudged her butt with one of my socked feet. She had a cute butt. "Don't worry yourself about it. He just needs to get laid."

She turned to face me completely now, glaring at me. I knew the look was supposed to intimidate me, but the way she did it, under shiny bangs, through thick black eyelashes and a steady brown-eyed gaze, I was anything but intimidated. "_Otto_."

"I'm kidding," I said, sighing. "He's probably just pissed off because he saw Reggie and Trent at it. He was already in a pretty bad mood from seeing them together all day at school, so no wonder seeing that set him off. I would have warned him about them down there if I'd known he was coming."

Cleo shook her head slowly, and then brought her knees up and rested her chin on them. Her long hair, straight, burgundy red, and down to her hips, swung forward with the movement. I swallowed hard. I had to get it together, concentrate on our conversation. But thinking about what Twist had interrupted was making it damn hard.

"When is he going to tell her?" She sighed too. "She must know. Doesn't she?"

I sat up, feeling my dreads brush against my arms when I shook my head at her. "No. She doesn't."

She groaned. It was a very, very attractive noise. I tried not to let my mind wander. "I'm worried about him, baby. You know how much I worry about him. He looks so lonely."

Real guilt stirred in my gut. I would never admit it to anyone, but I was worried too. I hated seeing him so angry about her all the time. "He'll be okay. He'll be fine." I reached up and pushed some of her hair back behind her shoulder. Some of it spilled back over, cascading down again like water.

Cleo looked up into my face, her eyes soft and sad and it gave me the overwhelming urge to kiss her. "I hope so," she said.

I couldn't stand to see that wounded expression on her face any longer, so I quickly changed the subject, turning on the charm. "So," I leaned back, folding my arms behind my head and flexing my biceps, a smile creeping onto my face. "Where were we?"

She smiled, as if she couldn't help it, and hit her fist lightly on my stomach. "Could you stop being horny for like, two seconds? I was having a moment, here."

I caught her hand in mine and sighed. "Sorry, it's just that you're really hot. Can't help myself." She was though. After three years, you'd think I'd be used to her illegal sexiness by now. Apparently not. I twined my fingers with hers. "_Plus_, we were kinda interrupted by your dumbass cousin."

"We were, weren't we?" She pursed her lips and crawled back toward me, purring, "I wonder what we should do about that?"

Yeah. So hot. "I think you should get back over here."

She crawled back over to me and straddled my lap, and my hands found their way up her spine and tangled into her hair. The rest of it fell around our faces, curtained us, as she grabbed my face between her hands and crashed her lips down onto mine.

* * *

**-Sam's POV-**

"Twist?"

"Don't talk to me." He snapped, picking up a long, sloppy chili cheese fry from his basket and shoving it into his mouth.

I watched him chew angrily for about a minute, blinking, then tried again. "But Twister, you seem upse—"

"Shh."

"But do you—"

"No."

"If you want, we can talk abou—"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But I'm here for yo—"

"_Please_," Twister said, finally turning and looking at me directly for the first time since he'd stormed into the Shore Shack five minutes ago. "Please, Sam. I just don't want to talk about it. I just want to eat in peace. Is that okay with you?"

My eyebrows raised. Wow, he was _really_ riled up. Something must have happened with Reggie. I wouldn't ask, then. "Okay, Twist. I'll leave you alone then." I gave him a feeble smile. "Enjoy your fries, I guess."

Seeming satisfied with my reply, he grunted and turned back around on his stool, going back to glaring at nothing in particular and mechanically shoving chili cheese fries into his mouth. I nodded to myself, shrugging and taking a sip of my milkshake, turning my attention to the Surf Channel playing on the television in the corner.

After maybe ten minutes of watching _The Greatest Wave: The History, _there was a commotion when a group of about seven girls our age poured into the restaurant, hooting and giggling and their roller blades' wheels squeaking as they all came to a stop. I saw her almost immediately.

Long, straight black hair down her back, a fair complexion for living in a place so sunny all the time, dark eyes, and a calm, cool exterior—especially compared to the noisy girls she'd come in with. The redheaded girl next to her said something, and her lips curled upward in a subdued chuckle.

How long had it been since I'd first met her? Years. I'd lost track. It felt like I moved here from Kansas and then after I met her, there wasn't one moment when I forgot about her. I'd always seen Trish. Always.

She was so involved in surfing, becoming something of a local celebrity after she'd won the National Women's Surf Championship twice in a row, and it was amazing. And it had permanently sealed the fate that she would always be untouchable. To me, to anybody, unless she wanted them too. But she already belonged to the ocean.

Of course, before she'd become a local celebrity, guys had already wanted her. Guys pined after her, sent her gifts and showed up on her doorstep asking her out, but she turned down them all. She never directly told them why, but it was easy to see for those who knew her. She belonged to the ocean, and the ocean was hers. Anyone else would just get in the way of that. There was nothing, at least for now, that she would ever want more than surfing.

"SQUID," Twister said, and it jangled my nerves so badly that I had to scramble to catch my milkshake glass that I'd almost knocked over. "What were you doing? I've been talking to you for like thirty seconds. You were out of it, man."

I pushed my thick rimmed glasses back up the bridge of my nose, smoothing down my pale hair and glancing back quickly to see if Trish had seen. She hadn't. "Sorry," I said. "What were you saying?"

He sighed hugely. "I was _asking_ if you could run to the kitchen and get me some more chili fries. I'm out, and Raymundo and Tito are over there talking to the chatty girl pow wow over there."

I drew in a shaky breath. "Sure, Twist." I took his fries basket and hopped off of my stool, going back to the kitchen to refill it. I had only been back there a handful of times, but I easily found fries frying in the deep fryer, and I cringed away from the heat as I put more fries in the basket, and I found the chili and put extra on top, dumping some cheese over it. It looked like it was an extra chili day for Twister.

I came back out of the kitchen, and when I did, I saw the group of girls that Trish came with huddled around her, and Trish, who sat in front of a birthday cake with birthday candles all lit up. I stopped walking. That's right. It was her birthday. There was a giant '18' candle in the middle of the cake.

They sang 'Happy Birthday' to her, her friends recording it on video on their phones as she blew out her candles, and they all clapped and cheered as she blushed, looking slightly embarrassed, but still happy. "Thanks guys," she said.

Realizing I was just standing there and watching them creepily, I hurried back over to Twister to give him his chili fries.

"Took you long enough," Twister muttered, snatching the basket out of my hand.

"You're welcome, Twist." I said under my breath.

He side glanced me, first in slight annoyance, and then his expression lightened up and he smiled slightly. "Thanks for the fries, Sam."

I smiled with some satisfaction then. "No problem."

Twister went back to digging in, and that exact moment, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I wasn't sure who I was expecting when I turned around, but when I saw who it was, I couldn't keep my jaw from dropping open momentarily.

"Hi, Sam?" Trish, hesitant looking and a slight blush still on her cheeks. And positively adorable. At this distance we were almost the same height, though I might've been taller by a couple of inches. "I'm sorry to bother you…I just wanted to ask if you could take a picture of me and my friends."

It took all of two seconds for me to unscramble my thoughts enough for a response. "Yeah…yeah! Sure. Of course!"

Seemingly surprised I agreed, a grin appeared on her face as she handed me her camera. It was a dark, sparkling blue. Like the ocean. I followed her over to her group of friends as they posed around her, and she smiled modestly in the middle, holding up her cake. I lifted the camera and snapped the picture, making sure I held my hands as still as I could manage with seven girls staring in my direction, so I wouldn't make the picture blurry. After I took it, I switched it to viewing mode and handed it back to her.

"Good?" I asked.

She looked at the camera's screen and then looked back up at me, smiling brightly. "Perfect. Thanks!"

"You're welcome," I said. I started to turn away as her friends began chatting up a storm again, and then I stopped, a wave of courage coming over me. _Just do it,_ I thought. _Just do it before you chicken out._ I spun back around. "Trish?"

Trish's glance jerked up again, looking slightly surprised. "Yes?"

I breathed in slowly, and then smiled at her. "Happy Birthday."

She held my gaze for a moment, then returned my smile, genuinely. Her smile was always genuine. And sweet. "Thank you, Sam."

I nodded once, and then turned back around and headed back to where Twister was sitting, shoveling fries into his mouth.

Untouchable, yes. But maybe she wasn't ever meant to be touched. Mystical, beautiful, delicate. Like a maiden from the sea. We were worlds apart. Maybe I was only meant to watch.

But as long as she stayed happy, stayed with her ocean that was a part of her as much as her blood and her flesh, as long as she stayed Trish, I was okay with watching. I could watch forever.

* * *

The plot thickens, eh?

Omg you guys. I'm so mortified. Somehow, in the beginning of this story, I thought Cleo was named Violet? So I called her Violet for some reason? Even though it makes no sense because Violet is their middle aged neighbor? Omfg. So, yeah. I had to go back and fix it. I'm so sorry for any confusion this had caused, hahaha. Oh man. So embarrassing. As a side note: do any of you know for sure if it's spelt Cleo or Clio? Because I've seen it spelled both ways, and I'm not sure which one to use. :S

Thanks to all of you that waited for this chapter, I'm sorry again for the wait! I plan on finishing this story before continuing with Losing Control, though, so expect the next chapter of this pretty soon! :D

**Please review**! Thanks guys!

**-MsButterFingers**


	5. Feelings Show

Finally, an update right? Sorry it took so long. I really shouldn't make this a regular habit with each chapter. Like, really. haha ;_;

So, without further ado, here it is!

_Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or settings from Rocket Power._

Sorry for any grammatical errors!

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**-Reggie's POV-**

It was Mid-October, and there was a particular bite to the Ocean Shores air that was slight enough so that it wasn't freezing, and yet slight enough to make it too cool to surf. Still, it was enough to make me want to wear long sleeves and long pants, even a light jacket. This time of year always reminded me of how my mom would bring out her heavy coats and scarves around this time—being from Hawaii, she would always get cold easily.

Dad had always poked fun at her for wearing such heavy clothing in the Autumn. 'Do you want me to freeze to death?' She'd always say in reply. 'Wear your shorts and short sleeves and freeze, then.' And then she would make me wear a jacket even though I whined about it being itchy and put little baby Otto in a tiny fleece coat so he wouldn't catch a cold. Even when it was cold, though, she would still take us to the ocean when the sun was out and shining. She loved surfing when it was hot, but when it was cool, she liked to go there and just be near the water and smell the salty air. I think it reminded her of home.

I missed her. I would always miss her.

"Dad, could we close the shutters? Just on the side the wind's coming from? It's freezing in here." I put my drink down on the tabletop, pulled my sleeve over my hand so it would be shielded from the cold cup, and picked it up again. I glanced across the table at Trent, who was busy ignoring me and typing away on his cell phone. One of his friends, probably.

Dad gave me a side glance and a grin. "Just like your mom. A teeny bit of cold and it's like the second ice age." His grin was a little stiff, the way it always was on days that he missed her, and I had the sudden thought that maybe this weather had reminded him of Mom too. He walked toward the front of the Shore Shack anyway, walking to the first archway to pull down the metal shutter. "I might as well, though. Since it's so chilly today, there are hardly any customers from the boardwalk. Plus, it's almost closing time, anyway."

I sighed with relief as the air inside the Shore Shack began to immediately warm up once all of the shutters were closed. "Thanks." The word echoed in the nearly empty restaurant. It was a slow day, and it was only me, Trent, and dad inside.

Dad had let Tito have the day off, who had also been complaining about the bite in the air; dad said he'd almost been wearing his full ski gear when he came in this morning. Also, he'd said something about the ancient Hawaiians and cursed cold fronts. Or something to that effect.

I glanced at Trent again, and seeing that he was still on his phone, I decided to take out that essay I'd been working on for World History. After about twenty minutes, and 15 new sentences that I'd added to my essay, Trent finally put his phone down and cleared his throat.

"Well, babe," he said, looking at me meaningfully, "I think we should go over to your house and watch that movie. Before I have to head home." Code for making out, something that we'd made up when we'd started dating. Code that was so obvious that Dad would know exactly what we were talking about, if Trent had said it louder so he could hear it back in the kitchen.

I sighed and closed my notebook. "Sure, hun. Let me just get my order from dad, he made it for me and Otto for dinner, since I don't feel like cooking tonight."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah? What did he make you guys?"

"Just some burgers and fries. Nothing fancy."

"…Oh."

That made me glance up from zipping my backpack, even though I'd expected it. "…What?" I asked, but I already knew the answer.

He was giving me that look again. The scrutinizing, sweeping look from my face downwards, with one eyebrow arched. The look that made me anxious and self conscious and small, all at the same time. A feeling I'd gotten used to around him. "Well," he shrugged, in a way that suggested he didn't care, only I knew it mattered to him. A lot. "I just think that something like a burger isn't something that you should be eating." He gestured at me. "You know, for a girl your size. You just…probably wouldn't want to risk tarnishing your perfect shape. You know what I mean, sweetheart. I say that with as much love as I can."

There it was. The reaction to his words was immediate, like being hit with a Mack truck. Something like nausea roiled in my stomach, thick and powerful and almost debilitating. My throat stung, and I swallowed hard against it. _Stop it,_ I thought to myself. _He's only looking out for you. This is how he shows he cares. He loves you. He loves you. _"Sure," I said, blankly at first, and then I forced a tight smile on my face. "Of course. You're right."

He hadn't always been this way. Before we had started dating a little over a year ago, he was nothing short of perfect. I'd thought he was the sweetest guy I'd ever met.

Then, after we started going out, it was little comments here and there. _Your thighs are a little rounder lately. _And making little, harmless jokes about my weight. Then, looking at other girls' weight and comparing them to me. Saying that with a little effort, I could look like them. That I could look as sexy. That if I straightened my hair, it made me look prettier than my naturally curly hair did. That girls shouldn't skateboard because it gives them ugly scars on their pretty skin, and it should be left to men. That he didn't want me to anymore.

Then, every time I ate something, the look. Every time I got near fast food, the look. A double sided comment—a complaint smoothed over with a sweet reminder of how much he loves me, or a cute pet name. Every time I countered his remarks, it escalated into a fight. The fights got so bad that I really, honestly thought that we would break up. So I stopped countering his remarks. Soon, I just began not eating when he was around. Just so I could avoid the look, and the cutting comments. Just to avoid them. But then it turned to something else entirely.

I stopped skating. I stopped wearing my hair curly. I stopped eating sometimes when Trent wasn't even there. Every time I looked at a plate of food, I found myself thinking, 'What would Trent think? What would Trent say if I ate this in front of him? What if I ate this, and he said something awful?' I didn't know where these thoughts came from. I had never been someone who cared much about what they ate. But I guess his opinion of me began to matter so much that other things mattered less. Like skating. Like my writing, which he had read once and said it was painfully boring. Like eating the things that I used to love, like Raymundo's double cheese burgers or chili dogs or his amazing chocolate ice cream sundaes.

It was worth it, I thought, to get rid of these things if it made Trent happy. I just wanted Trent to be happy. I just wanted to be happy with him. That's all I wanted. I'd wanted to be with him for so long, and I wasn't going to screw that up now.

It was fine. It was okay. It was okay. It was okay.

Everything was fine. Even though I was hungry all the time, sometimes to the point of dizziness and being weak all day. Even though I could see my ribs if I sat up straight. Even though sometimes when I did eat, I would feel so guilty that I would shake violently and cry to the point of almost making myself sick.

"Let's get out of here, then." Trent said suddenly, and it broke me out of my thoughts. He had already gotten up from the table and was looking at me expectantly. Tall, deep tan, a sharp jaw, tousled chocolate hair and dark eyes. He was intoxicating to look at. Not necessarily classically beautiful, but attractive in a different way. With a touch of poison.

I cleared my throat, which had developed a hard lump in it. "Yeah," I said as cheerfully as I could muster. I grabbed my backpack from the ground. "I'll just leave my order here, I'll get some veggies at home, or something." I rushed to his side and took his hand with mine, lacing our fingers together. He squeezed my hand back the way that I liked, and I called out a farewell to Dad as we left the Shore Shack and ventured into the crisp cool air.

It was fine. It was fine. Everything was fine.

* * *

**-Twister's POV-**

The past few weeks had fallen into the same pattern. Otto makes me late for school, school, general Reggie and Trent crappiness, mope about Reggie, eat throughout all of these events, sleep. Repeat for the next day, and the day after that, and so on and so forth.

Today I noticed how down Reggie seemed. There was always that underlying note of anxiousness to her demeanor that she'd never had before Trent, but today it was more than that. On cooler days, she did seem a little different. Maybe even a little sad. I wanted so badly to ask what was wrong, but every time I had tried, I'd gotten that predator-like glare from Trent. Since I hadn't felt like dealing with his dumb ass today, in the end I didn't ask.

I hated when the weather got cooler like this, because some outdoor places in town closed down during the cooler seasons, and surfing during this time was a big fat no. Which meant that besides skating, there were hardly any outdoor activities to blow off steam with, at least until ski season started. Which meant more time to stew indoors to think about things that I didn't want to think about, which meant more stress. Just no good all around. Plus, there was one thing that had been hanging in the back of my mind for a few weeks now, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake it off.

"Hey, Squid," I said, pausing my game and glancing over at Sam, whom was bent over his desktop computer's keyboard, probably doing homework for his AP classes. The geek.

But at least the geek didn't mind me coming over after school and playing his XBOX while he was doing homework. I did it at least once a week, and I had to admit it, I liked being at Sam's house. His house was always warm, his room didn't smell like stale pizza and sweaty socks like mine did, and his mom always made us brownies and Rice Krispies treats as 'study snacks', even though she probably knew by now that Sam was the only one that ever studied. Plus, I didn't have to be a third wheel, like I was 70% percent of the time I tried to hang out with Otto. Sometimes I didn't mind it, especially on the days that Cleo and Otto kept their hands off of each other, but I just didn't feel like dealing with it today.

"Yeah, Twist?" Sam said after a few moments, looking up from his computer screen. "Have a question about the cheat I told you about earlier?" It was interesting how determined he was about studying and not cheating in school, and yet the guy had an entire encyclopedia of video game cheats in his brain.

"No, I got past that part already," I said, staring hard at the paused game. My character had been mid-jump, and he was levitating in the air. "I have a question about something else."

"Is it your Biology homework? The virus unit was pretty challenging, if I'm remembering correctly. Mr. Palmer did heavy rote memorization for that one."

"No, it's not that."

"Is it for Geometry? Fractions, maybe? Remember, the numbers on the bottom have to be the same in order for you to add them, but that doesn't apply with multiplication."

"No—"

"Government, then? Have you been taking notes like I said you should? Remember, the key to doing well in history classes is memorizing the right dates that go with each important event—"

I shouted, "For God's sake, Squid, _no! _It's not about school!" This was a bad idea. I should have just continued my game in peace.

"Oh," Sam stopped, and there was a heavy pause. Then, I heard him turn his computer chair away from his desk. "Is it serious?"

I didn't know how he could tell. Maybe because I never asked him about anything _besides_ video games and homework and occasionally the questions about how things worked that received long-winded, complicated answers that made me wish that I'd never bothered asking him in the first place. "I don't know," I muttered. "Kind of."

This probably stunned him again, because he made another pause. "Oh, I see." He said. "Well then, go ahead."

I set the XBOX controller down on my lap for a moment, then picked it back up so I could have something to fiddle with and stare at.

"Do you think…" I stopped. "Do you think…that there are people out there that can be together…and be happy?" It sounded dumb to say it that way, so I corrected myself. "I mean, truly happy. Not just…happy for a little while. Or fake happy. But…actually happy." I paused again, and then turned to look at him, probing. "Do you believe in that?"

He didn't look at me like I'd expected, with a look of comical disbelief or even amusement. He just looked back at me, eyes more serious than usual behind his glasses. "I think I do, sometimes. And then sometimes I think of my parents, and then I wonder if it's possible." I think for a moment about Sam's parents, divorced when he was still a kid, and of his mother, who moved with Sam to an entirely different state just to start over again. I also think of the slight bitterness in his mother's voice whenever she mentions his father, which happens very rarely. Something that isn't so impossible for me to imagine.

I nod, looking back down at the controller in my hands again. "I see," I said.

"What brought that question on? Are you all right?"

I could tell by the tone of his voice that he thinks it's about Reggie. It really only partly is, this time. I started the game again and the room filled with loud video game noises once again, drowning out my thoughts. "It's nothing," I shouted over the noise. I glanced over my shoulder quickly enough to see Sam shrug and turn back to his computer. I turned back to the TV screen. "It's nothing," I said again under my breath.

* * *

Later, when I got home, there was shouting from upstairs. The sound was so jarring, and so unlike the silence that my house had been filled with for weeks now, that it almost made me jump out of my skin the moment I heard it when I stepped in the door.

"I _KNEW_ it! I knew you'd go back to her again, Raoul!_ You son of a bitch!" _The sound of my mother's raw anger immediately put me at a sharp unease. I suddenly found the need to sit down, but I didn't. I was frozen in my spot.

"Sandy, listen to me—"

"Why? Why should I listen? I knew this would happen. I _knew_ it would. I saw the way you looked at her. I can't believe I believed you when you said you wouldn't sleep with her again. God _dammit_."

I heard a loud bang, and at the same time, my heart dropped into my feet. My dad had cheated on my mom. With who? When? How many times? I didn't close the front door behind me, because then they would hear that I was home and they would stop fighting.

"Sandy, please! I've told you how sorry I am! How many times do you want me to say it?"

"Shut your lying ass up. You _told_ me nothing was going on between you two. Didn't you? _Didn't you?_"

A long silence. "…It was different then. I didn't…I didn't know I would develop feelings for her."

"Oh my _God_. Why do you keep saying that? Do you think I _want_ to hear that?"

"You deserve to know the truth. I just wanted to tell you the truth."

"Do you think the truth is less painful? Do you think the truth makes me forget about how much you don't want me? Do you think the truth makes me forget about how _disgusted_ I feel when I look at you now? Do you think it makes me forget that you're a lying, cheating bastard?"

"You know I won't leave you and Twister. My feelings for her haven't changed anything. It won't change anything! We're still a family!"

"It's changed _everything,_ Raoul. You're a foolish man."

My head was swimming, and I felt sick, and I couldn't hear anymore, so I finally slammed the front door closed behind me to alert them that I was home and to make the shouting stop. They immediately quieted, and after grabbing a large bag of chips from the kitchen, I walked as calmly to my room as I could—like absolutely nothing was wrong, like I had no idea—and I locked myself in there for the rest of the night.

At some time during the night, when I couldn't sleep, I decided to text Sam. I paused to read the screen after I'd typed the message.

'**Hey, Squid. I disagree with you. I really don't think it's possible. At all.**'

I sent it and then threw my phone to the floor.

* * *

Sorry again for the long wait! I'll try the best I can to update quicker!

**Please review**! I really do appreciate it, thank you. ;_;

**-MsButterFingers **


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